All's Well That Ends Well
by giacinta
Summary: Dean decides that his brother is more important than anything else! My usual supply of brotherly love. :


I don't own Dean, Sam, the Impala or any rights over Supernatural. Unfortunately!

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The episode of "Free To Be You And Me" is amongst my least favourite episodes.

It's too sad for my taste, so I thought I would give my own take on it.

Excuse any mistakes :(

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All's Well That Ends Well.

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Dean Winchester never cried!

He was the most bad-ass hunter on the entire planet!

Anyone who had anything to do with their shadowy supernatural world was well aware of his reputation.

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Dean Winchester was fast with a gun, expert with a knife and machete;

he loved a good-fist fight, could execute more unorthodox leg moves than the frequenters of the worst fight-clubs on the planet

and to top it all off, he was a dead-shot even with such an archaic weapon as the cross-bow.

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He could also have beaten the world record in any Olympic grave-digging contest, if such a discipline had existed in that prestigious competition.

He had turned lying into an art, and like any great artist, used his talent to bluff his way out of the most problematic situations.

He could hustle pool better than Paul Newman in "The Hustler."

You didn't want to meet him over a poker table and he could even hold his own in a darts game;

after all it was just as easy to aim with a dart as with a gun.

No, you didn't mess with Dean Winchester if you didn't have a death-wish!

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Not content with such an impressive set of qualifications, he was also gifted with movie star good looks and the charm to go with them

He could bewitch ninety- nine point nine percent of the female population with his cheeky smile and intense green eyes.

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If he had had to present a curriculum for a job, he could have inserted all of the above and it would all have been true,

but in that impressive list of accomplishments, the most important one of all was missing.

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He was also a big brother.

Correction; he was Sam Winchester's big brother and the rest of his curriculum could go to Hell for all he cared

for that last qualification was the only one that truly mattered to him.

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As for the "Dean Winchester never cries!" Well, that was a blatant lie, for he did cry; maybe the tears weren't always spilling down his cheeks

but they certainly dripped unseen down through his heart and into every cell of his body.

When that happened it was always to do with Sam.

Sam was his one true weakness; unfortunately that was well known in the hunting world too.

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In that precise moment, while driving through the dark rainy night, a false smile on his tired face,

every fibre of Dean's body was awash with his internal tears.

He stole a glance at the passenger seat where his sibling was usually uncomfortably crumpled up in sleep;

the seat was empty, as was his whole world when Sam was not in it.

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"To Hell with this!" he thought to himself; and he threw his powerful black machine into a U-turn

and headed off to where his sobbing heart told him to go.

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Not more than a few hours ago he had been with Castiel; outwardly laughing and declaring how liberating it was to be finally free of the burden

of having to continually worry about his brother and his demon blood addiction.

Yes Dean Winchester was a talented liar; he could even convince his own self that what he was saying was true.

Lies, lies, lies! All lies!

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Dean Winchester was nothing without his brother and he was going back to get him.

He pushed his foot down on the accelerator and the Impala jumped forward joyously, as if she too anticipated the pleasure

of having her missing son back in his rightful place under her protective roof.

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He had no trouble in tracking down Sam, and he pulled up in front of the bar in Garber Oklahoma

without having stopped for more than a leak and a couple of bottles of water.

He hadn't eaten since leaving Pennsylvania, his appetite inexistent; the need to get to his brother too pressing.

Dean was a happy eater, the happier he was, the more he eat.

When he had retrieved Sam he would treat himself to the biggest burger in history, for contrary to what he had so confidently declared to Castiel,

he was at his happiest when he was with his brother, even when they argued and bickered

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He walked impatiently up to the Bar, anxious to get to his sibling.

Some instinct made him take a quick look through the window before pushing open the glass door.

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His heart finally stopped it's sobbing when he saw his brother there before him, unharmed; but he was not alone.

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He recognised the two men.

They were hunters, Tim and Reggie, if he wasn't mistaken, and did Reggie have his arm round the neck of a girl?

He wanted to burst in, but he bided his time, curious to see what was unfolding before his eyes.

He couldn't quite hear the voices, but he saw Sam gesticulating with his arms, obviously trying to explain something.

He continued to watch as Reggie put a knife down on the counter and cuffed the girl to the bar.

What the hell was going on in there, he asked himself.

He watched as Reggie and Tim advanced on his brother and jumped him.

That was it! Dean had seen all he wanted to see.

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He had been willing to wait it out as long as Sam was in no direct danger, but nobody got to hurt his little brother.

He burst through the door with as much noise as he could, but the men were engrossed in attacking Sam, and hadn't heeded his arrival.

Dean soon made sure that they got the message!

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"Get the Hell away from my brother," was the forceful command.

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This time the message arrived loud and clear, but just in case it hadn't quite registered, Dean repeated it.

"I said; get the Hell away from my brother, because if you don't get your filthy hands off him right now,

you'll be giving the floor a new blood-red colour scheme."

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The two men pulled themselves off Sam and turned to face the new-comer, the hate in Dean's eyes was more deadly

than the pointed gun in his rock-steady grip.

The two hunters edged away from their victim.

There was no doubt in their minds that if they didn't, they would be dead meat in less than a second.

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By this time Sam had pulled himself shakily up.

He couldn't believe that his brother was here in the flesh, not after what had been said back at the picnic area.

"Dean..!"

"Hey, Sammy, get your butt over here. These gentlemen don't deserve your company. You're too good for them"

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"Dean..!"

Sam wondered when he had become such a sappy idiot that just the sight of his brother, there defending him, made him so tongue-tied and happy.

"Sam, are you gonna get your ass over here or not, we haven't got all night!" his brother repeated almost fondly.

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Galvanized out of his stupor, Sam got a hold of the key and uncuffed Lindsey from the bar-rail.

"Who's that?" she asked curiously. "He's my brother," was all Sam said, as if that explained everything.

"I'm sorry you got mixed up in all this but you'll be fine just as soon as I'm gone."

He turned to walk towards Dean.

She put a hand on his arm.

"Keith-Sam, you're a good man. I hardly know you, but my instinct never lies."

He gave her a wry smile before taking his place at his brother's side.

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"You're making a big mistake, Dean! He's a freak, a monster. You have to kill him!" Tim yelled, showing great courage in the face of Dean's wrath,

but he would have been better keeping his opinions to himself.

Dean's gun fired with a resounding bang as Tim fell to the floor with a bullet in the leg.

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"Nobody gets to call my brother names, except me!" and he turned an affectionate gaze onto Sam who looked back astounded,

as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing and hearing.

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Dean pushed Sam behind him and exited the bar backwards with his gun still pointed towards the two men.

The brothers got into the waiting Impala and took off with a roar of the powerful engine, stopping only to recuperate Sam's few belongings

and his computer from his motel room.

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"Why, Dean?" Sam asked, plucking up his courage, when they were well away from Garber.

"Do you really have to ask? Sammy."

"Yes, I do Dean," Sam's voice was hushed.

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"The truth is so simple, Sam! You're my brother and if you're not in my life, it means nothing; I'm nothing without you.

Is that chick-flicky enough, or do I have to continue?"

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"But what about the demon blood and ….."

"I was wrong Sammy," he interrupted. "Whatever is coming down on us we'll face it together, even if you turn out to be

the freakiest freak on the planet, you're stilll my Sammy and that's all that matters."

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Dean turned to him and Sam's bruised heart swelled with joy as he saw the love and truth in his brother's eyes, and he knew that Dean was right.

Their place was with each other, and to Hell with everyone and everything else.

Demons, Angels and any other beings out there were just gonna have to get along without them.

Sam snuggled down to sleep, feeling completely protected by the presence of his brother, and Dean drove on with his baby under his ass,

his brother by his side and a blinding smile on his face; his world in perfect harmony.

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XXXXXX The enD XXXXXXXXXXXXX


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